


19. Creampie

by Clefaiiiry



Series: Kink Meme (hiatus) [4]
Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: AMAB Bloodhound, Anal Sex, Creampie, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Not Beta Read, Other, Panic Attacks, Rimming, SO MUCH FLUFF, scotophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-24 21:21:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20712725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clefaiiiry/pseuds/Clefaiiiry
Summary: For JaydenDSin.





	19. Creampie

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JaydenDSin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaydenDSin/gifts).

> Bloodhound is AMAB in this fic and their downstairs is referred to explicitly as a cock. If this isn't your cup of tea feel free to move on.

Elliott Witt, combatant of the Apex Games and grown ass adult, should not have been scared of the dark.

He always had been, even since he was a child. It was something he was totally gonna work on… some day. But why do that when he could just keep taking night shifts just to avoid lying in a pitch blank room huddling under the covers?

But he’d agreed to spend some time off to celebrate his new shared apartment with his partner, so there was no avoiding it.

They had stayed up late, watching trash TV until Bloodhound was nodding off beside him. He let himself be dragged to bed, totally not staring at their back muscles flexing as they changed into their sleepwear and tied their hair back.

The bed was new, as was most of their furniture. It wasn’t like the two of them didn’t have money to spare with so many sponsorships and Apex wins under their shared belts. The covers were plush and soft, he could easily just sink in and drift away. Bloodhound clambered in beside him, settling down and sighing in content.

“Elliott? Can you get the light?” they muttered, and Elliott froze.

“Huh?”

They frowned. “The light, Elliott.”

“Urh, yeah, the light, right yeah.”

His hand hovered over the switch for a full ten seconds before he finally turned it off and plunged the room into darkness.

_ Not tonight, come on, it’s not a big deal, get over yourself- _

He squeezed his eyes shut, nails digging into his palms as his pulse grew louder and louder. Elliott took in a deep breath, shifting as slowly as possible as not to disturb Bloodhound. He dragged his legs up to his chest, hugging them tight and screwing up into a ball.

_ Just close your eyes and go to sleep, nothing’s going to happen- _

He didn’t realise how violently he was shaking until Bloodhound’s calloused hand smoothed over his side.

“Are you alright?”

_ They’ll just laugh if you tell them. What kind of idiot is scared of the dark- _

“Huh? Yeah I- hah, I’m fine! Don’t worry about it. I’m okay, I’m- I’m okay.” 

Bloodhound said nothing, reaching over him to turn on the bedside lamp. The sudden light made Elliott wince and curse.

“Elliott? Is there something you need to talk about?”

He couldn’t even look at them, even as they drew closer, carefully taking his cheek like they were approaching a wounded animal.

“It’s nothing.” He coughed and sniffled. “I-I’m just gonna go the bathroom real quick.”

Before even waiting to hear their response, he was up and out of bed, stumbling across the floor and switching on every light all the way to the bathroom. The cool tile was harsh against his bare feet. He almost tripped over his pyjama pants but saved himself on the sink.

Wait, he’d been crying? He hadn’t even felt it. Elliott laughed, but the sound was wrong, as if it wasn’t even his. His eyes were puffy and red, snot running down his face. He definitely didn’t look like a thirty year old man. He looked more like a sheepish five year old who needed to crawl into bed with his mom.

Elliott turned on the cold tap, splashing his face and barely flinching when half of it ended up running down his chest. He took several long, deep breaths and rubbed his hands over his eyes.

“Come on, Witt, get your fucking shit together,” he grumbled, wiping his eyes hard enough to hurt, then washed his face in the freezing water to lessen the redness. It wasn’t enough to totally salvage his face, he still looked awful, but it was the best he was going to get.

He stared at himself for a few more seconds before drying his face with the softest towel they owned, and plodded back to their room, pausing before he switched off each light and lingering at the bedroom door until he could no longer hear the blood rushing in his ears.

When he came back in, Bloodhound was huddled in the corner, fussing with something small and white, plugging it into the wall socket.

“What’s that?”

Bloodhound looked up, brushing their ponytail over their shoulder. “Hm? Oh, when I was rearing Arthur he hated the dark so I used to leave this on for him.”

They flicked the switch and the bedroom was painted in a faint orange glow.

“Is that too bright?”

Elliott was across the room before he was even aware of it, wrapping himself around them and burying his nose into their shoulder.

“I love you.”

There was a little sigh, endeared and followed by a gentle peck to his cheek.

“Come back to bed, my beloved.”

They took his hand, guiding him back under the duvet, still warm. They flattened themself against him, chest the chest, head tucked under his chin. Their scent enveloped him, mellow and warm.

Elliott tried to relax, he really did, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, but he was still shaking, glancing to the corners where the nightlight didn’t quite reach. Bloodhound shifted beside him, glancing up.

“Are you still nervous?” They whispered softly against his skin.

He didn’t trust his voice, so settled with a nod. They hummed in consideration.

“Would you like a… distraction?”

Elliott scoffed. “I… yeah… Honestly? Yeah.”

They guided him down by his chin, kissing him sweetly. He groaned, running his hands up their sides, teasing the hem of their shirt.

Elliott only pulled away when his head ached from lack of air. He worked a hand into their pants, involuntarily moaning as he curled his fingers around their half-hard cock. Bloodhound smirked.

“Eager?”

“Just- Ah, ya know, worked up.”

They chuckled. “Well, I can help with that.”

“Yeah, fuck, babe-”

A hand found its way to his cheek and he leaned into their touch with a sigh. Their smirk melted into a tender smile.

“I want you to make love to me.”

“That’s gay,” he said on instinct.

They blinked once, twice, then giggled.

“Shut up,” they teased, pressing one last kiss to his nose, then pulled away, rummaging in the bedside cabinet for lube. When they returned, they straddled his lap, warming it between their fingers and tossing the bottle somewhere on the bed to recover later.

Even in the low light, he could clearly see the little twist in their expression as they pushed two fingers into their hole, hear the little hitch in their breath as they propped themself against his thighs and slipped in the third.

It only took a minute or two before they were impatiently dragging them out and taking his cock, giving him a few little strokes, their own standing proudly and drooling so excessively Elliott wanted to choke on it.

“C-Can I-” Elliott started, catching their hand, “can I be above?”

They nodded, giving him a soft kiss and climbing off to splay themself out on the bed. Elliott lifted their legs, letting them fold against the small of his back. They wrapped their arms around his shoulders, gazing up at him like he was the most wonderful man in the world.

“I love you,” he breathed.

“I love you too, my dearest.” Bloodhound smiled, small but oh so sincere.

They kissed, slow and deep, as Elliott eased himself inside. Bloodhound moaned against his lips, their grip tightening ever so slightly, but he didn’t stop until he was inside entirely.

They pulled back, resting their forehead against his, panting quietly. Their eyes were hazy, a little line of drool escaping the corner of their puffy lips.

“Can I move?”

They nodded. “Please, Elliott. Please move.”

Elliott pressed against them entirely, smushing them between himself and the bed, rolling his hips in a slow, steady rhythm. Bloodhound clung to him, meeting his thrusts with soft gasps and burying their face into his shoulder.

“Oh, just like that- Gods...” they sighed, pressing a soft kiss to his neck.

Elliott squeezed their ass, then roamed his hand up, dragging his nails against their skin. Bloodhound jolted against him, whimpering so prettily at the contact. Oh he certainly wouldn’t last long with the sounds that tumbled from their lips.

He couldn’t wiggle his hand between their stomachs to stroke their cock in time with his thrusts, so made do with kissing them again, anywhere his mouth could reach. He babbled between each peck, praise and pet names, release approaching so fast it made him dizzy.

“I’m so close, babe,” he said, voice wavering, hips beginning to jerk erratically.

“Inside,” was all they could choke out before dissolving into incoherent groans, desperately grinding back against him as he furiously picked up his pace.

He came with their name on his lips and a stuttered final jerk of his hips, flopping limply above them and groaning with the effort. Bloodhound was still clenching around his oversensitive cock, trying and failing to regain the previous rhythm.

“Fuck...” Elliott panted, pulling out with a wet squelch. Bloodhound sobbed at the sudden emptiness, wriggling against the bed.

“Elliott- Elliott please, I need just a bit more, please-”

As cute as they were begging _ just for him _, he decided to take pity on them, planting a kiss to their temple and working his way down. Only he knew just how soft they were down there, how they twitched below him, the sounds they made when they got close. They caught the look in his eye through the low light and grunted.

“Filthy,” they muttered, but made no move to stop him as he dragged their legs up over his shoulders and spread their hole wide. He tried not to chuckle at the mess of lube and cum that leaked out.

Elliott’s eyes fluttered shut as he leaned forward and drags his tongue over their hole in broad, flat strokes. It was enough to make them moan, high-pitched and unrestrained. One hand fisted the sheets, the other grabbing him by the back of his head and forcing him closer. They whispered his name like a prayer, writhing as he craned his neck to go deeper, teasing his tongue just past the rim.

“Fuck!” They sobbed, tossing their head back.

Elliott heard something rip, but paid it no mind as he started moving in little circles, wanting to be closer, as if that were even possible with how he crushed himself against them. He almost wished he could see them from his angle, but the sounds were enough. He snaked a hand up, jerking them slick and fast, revelling in the cries from their wrecked throat.

“I- I can’t- Elliott, I’m going to-” With one last moan, they came across their stomach, but Elliott kept going, working them with his tongue until they were wriggling away and their sobs began to side on painful. Only then did he pull back and marvel at the state they were in.

Their skin was flushed from head to toe, tears staining their cheeks, drool over their chin, their cum splattered across their stomach without care, chest heaving with the effort. In the gentle orange glow of the nightlight, they were flawless.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathed, and they had to hide their face behind their hands.

“Hush,” they scolded, “I’m a mess. Let us get cleaned up-”

But before they could get up, he had them dragged back down to the bed, smushed against his chest, showering kisses across their cheeks. “Do it in the morning.”

“You say that now, but tomorrow when you wake up-”

“That’s for tomorrow me to deal with, just sleep,” he muttered against their skin, bundling them up, nice and close. Close enough that the darkness wouldn’t dare disturb them.

**Author's Note:**

> Smush is such a good word, for real.
> 
> writer's block + depression is like the worst combo would not recommend.
> 
> Went to see Hozier perform live, had a spiritual experience, came home, wrote some soft shit, called it a day.
> 
> I had a pretty awful fear of the dark when I was little, still get a bit anxious these days so I leave my PC plugged in so the power cord lights up my room a little. so basically yeah, i'm projecting again.
> 
> This was prompt 19 on my [Kink Prompt Template.](https://clefaiiiry.tumblr.com/post/185726570437/remind-me-when-i-get-home-after-my-split-i-have-a)


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